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Good thing she’s basking in the sunshine, soaking in that life-changing vitamin D from the fireball in the sky! Her legs need a little color after the long, hard, mid-western winter. They look see through.

Well, what do we have here? It looks like a tasty easter egg treat all tucked away in the grass, doesn’t it?

Right.

This here is the top of a blow pop sucker nestled in a fuzzy little fluff of carpeting. Yeah, it’s green apple. Isn’t green apple the best flavor of blow pop? And yeah, my carpeting is green. It is unfortunate and something I’ve been planning on replacing for the past 5 years that we’ve lived in this house.

For those of you that may still be wondering just what in tarnation is happening, let me fill you in on my morning.

It began much like any other day off: my eyes blinked awake when they were ready. It was later than a typical day since I had a bout of insomnia the evening prior and was awake until after 4:30. My intentions for the day were to prepare the kids’ area for a few girls that are sleeping over this weekend. I wouldn’t want these 10 year old girls thinking that we live in a dirty house and are unorganized. No. After fetching a morning coffee, I began the always daunting task of cleaning their toy/play area.

I gathered up 4 bags of plastic toys and dumb shit that they don’t play with anymore or that is broken….and also toys that I think are annoying. It’s true, I’m a mother that secretly gets rid of toys. Let’s be honest…they never even know. I loaded them up in the car ready to be donated to Goodwill. I managed to make it out of there with only one bag of trash as opposed to the usual 4. Despite arming their room with 2 garbage cans, papers, beads, wrappers and goldfish crackers always ended up on the floor and all over the place. Savages.

I made it through the session without flipping into a maniacal cleaning madwoman. I get angry when I clean. I do. I curse and bitch. I ask questions to my invisible family like ‘Did you know we own a garbage can? Have I not given you the tools to pick up after yourself? Are you fucking kidding me??’

I made it all the way through today. I did! It was impressive! My finest hour! Until I moved the couch to vacuum and saw this green eyed beast staring at me. Oh, what’s this? Oh…huh…oh, it’s stuck to the carpeting….Oh man…Fucking A!!! What the fuck?!? A Fucking blow pop?

It sent me over the edge.

It was so lodged in there…pressed in further by the couch leg.

I had to slice it out with a razorblade. It felt good. Maybe now we can get new carpeting?

This tradition has been passed down three generations of trees. A measly three years in human time, yet who knows how long in the land of trees. It is a tradition I hope survives the test of time, and with proper documentation…in the form of a family ‘tree’ (ha!), I hope that years from now we can look back and giggle a little bit. In the beginning, it seemed to be a silly little game we played, but now we look forward to it. The adoption and naming of the tree.

It began three years ago with grandfather tree. His name: Tree Tree. Simple, precise, to the point.

His legacy lived on last year through his son: Red Green. Colorful, upbeat, and festive.

This year, we have a beautiful, majestic, sophisticated tree. Grand-daughter of Tree Tree, daughter of Red Green…

It’s about time the kids were introduced to the high flying adventures of Big Top Pee Wee, don’t you agree?

I can’t even remember the first time I saw this movie…and I’m not sure how long ago it was. As I watch, I am realizing that I don’t remember any of this. I mean, I remember, but I don’t remember. I don’t remember the talking pig or the angry townsfolk. I don’t remember Kris Kristofferson playing the ring leader of the circus in his Indiana Jones attire. Maybe I remember Pee Wee’s Big Adventure more…the tequila song and the platform shoes with the goldfish in them and Large Marge. People still do that funny back and forth thumb dance when the song Tequila comes on.

I do seem to recall the egg salad sandwich dripping on Pee Wee’s face…mmm…egg salad-y!

I remember watching Pee Wee’s Playhouse on Saturday mornings when I was a kid and I remember loving it. I loved the clay-mation opening scene and I loved the aluminum foil ball. Who could forget Chairy? I might just have to order all the seasons so that I can relive it every Saturday morning. I think that the new generation is enjoying it too…my little lovely #2 thinks that it’s pretty funny so far. So far so good! Everyone loves that good old Pee Wee giggle.

My friend and I like to drive around, drink coffee, and try to laugh like Pee Wee. We end up geeking out and laughing so fucking hard we have to wee wee a little pee pee. See how much joy Pee Wee can bring?

It’s here. The day after trick or treating. The day when the candy bowls are overflowing with the best of the best. I’m talking Snickers bars and Butterfingers and Skittles and Tootsie Pops. Laffy Taffy and Peanut Butter M&M’s.

I die.

I must resist. I must resist. I must can’t resist.

Sorry kids! Your mom is a sugar addict and once you go outside to play she will pilfer through your bowl for the best candy and demolish it. Then she will allow you one single piece after dinner…and then once you are sleeping cozily in your beds, she will gorge on the rest of the chocolates and taffies and sour hard candies you worked so hard to collect.

Check out my friend’s page, big sexy geek, where she shares her personal story of geekery and talks about being proud of who you are, inside and out. Woot woot!! She’s new to blogging too, so show her some love!

Who out there is a blogging geek? I might look around the room to assess the situation…and then slowly and timidly raise my hand, reluctantly…finding that I would be the only one with a hand up. Shit.

Am I? Well…I do have a blog. I wouldn’t say I’m obsessed with it any longer. I can’t say that I stay up all night reading other blogs either.

People like to say that they could’ve made this piece of art. They could’ve. But they didn’t.

People like to say they hate it because it’s minimal and takes very little talent to paint a whole canvas a solid primary color.

People like to be critical.

People like to think they know everything about art.

Guess who loved this piece? This 6 year old lovely. Yes. Art doesn’t have to be complex and inventive to be great. It can be whatever it wants. People will still run through the museum to get to it after looking at sterile still lives and portraits. This 6 year old ran because it’s familiar and comforting and she can relate to it even though she doesn’t know the deep seeded meaning behind it. People will still stretch their arms out and say, ‘This one is my favorite!’ just like she did.

My nine year old is a roller girl. At first I was worried about it…and now, a year in, I am so proud and grateful that it presented itself to us.

I am continuously shocked at her growing talents…and speed! This girl can fly. On wheels. In very close proximity to other fast girls on wheels.

Roller derby? For kids?

Uh, yeah.

This is the epitome of building self esteem. It’s cool, physical, dangerous, and there is a lot more self expression even though they play for the greater good of the team.

With derby names spreading from Killer Cupcake to Rainbow Smash to Cheetara…with colorful knee high socks and sticker-filled helmets, these young girls are completely themselves….and they look up to women of all colors, shapes, sizes and talents who skate and who have amazing day jobs.

If anyone out there has an intense, smart, creative, funny, young girl…who is not necessarily outgoing but needs to build her self power for the difficult future of the ‘tween’ years…I highly recommend roller skating and roller derby, if available in your city.

Thinking up derby names and shopping for sweet socks is only the beginning.